The Rain
by Delectable Desires
Summary: Hermione Granger only has one year left at Hogwarts. But how will she manage with the final battle approaching and her lover never around. Can she face reality, or will she fall with the collapse of the most infamous wizard in history?
1. Confrontation

Severus grumbled curses under his breath as he shook water from his drenched person. He hated being wet and he hated rain. And in his haste to report to Voldemort, he had forgotten to water-proof his cloak. With a sigh, he pulled it off and spelled it dry along with the rest of his clothes. It was ironic that a man so cold and pessimistic could hate a depressing rainfall. Nonetheless, he wished he had power of the weather and began to walk into number twelve Grimwald Place, not at all looking forward at having to report to a meeting tonight.

As soon as he entered, people were waiting to bombard him with questions. _Another reason why I hate people_, Severus thought grimly. Remus was the first to step forward. By the looks of it, he had been out tonight as well and had also forgotten to spell his garments.

"What's happened?" he asked in an exhausted tone, but with eager eyes. His eyes always held an eagerness for advancement after Sirius died. Severus empathized the feeling, wanting revenge.

"He has the leaders of the deatheaters in an assembly as we speak. They're moving into place for the last fight. And he's changed the location of the last horcrux. He estimates it will occur within the year. But we'll see." With that Severus pushed past the crowd and hung up his cloak, glancing around nonchalantly for a certain person.

"Dinner!" Molly Weasley called cheerfully, instantly clearing the hall of all people except for Severus and the curls in the shadows. He waited a few seconds, in case anyone decided to turn back, and then walked towards her.

Hermione Granger stepped from the darkness, her arms wrapped around herself nervously. Severus put his arm around her back and pulled her close. Looking up, she gently kissed him. Instantly, Severus knew something was astray. She looked. . .frail and fragile. As the candles flickered over her face, he noticed how pale it appeared to be.

"Mione, what's wrong?" He asked, backing up a bit so he could see her fully. She pulled from his grip and backed away. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Severus, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to, it was an accident." She swallowed and dared to lock his gaze. "I don't hold you responsible in the least and I'll not hold you back and try to force you to stay. No one will ever know you were involved." Severus stared at her, and was for the first time in many years, confused. What on earth was this woman talking about?

"Out with it woman!" He said in a joking manner (for Snape), although Hermione seemed to wince at his words.

"Severus, I'm pregnant." With his gasp, Hermione knew there was nothing she could have done to prepare him for news like this. She held back tears as she began to walk away, in a hurried manner. She couldn't handle this, she couldn't do this alone. She had hoped. . .

"Hermione, wait!" Severus called, beginning to follow her, though not daring to leave the normal pace of his walk. Remus Lupin came into view as Severus turned the corner.

"Oh, good, you're together. Molly insisted I come retrieve the both of you for dinner." Silently, the trio made it back to the hall where a large table of noisy people awaited them. Severus had comtemplated reaching out to Hermione, but they arrived at the doors before he had worked up the courage to do so.

Remus reclaimed his seat next to Tonks and Kingsley, while Severus was forced to take the only open seat between Minerva and, much to his dismay, Hagrid. Meanwhile, Hermione had a seat saved for her between Ginny and Fred Weasley. Severus couldn't help but observe her. She really was a good actress. She would smile when jokes were made (though they were always weak) and she answered fervently any questions she was asked, as she always did. But there was a dull hollowness to her voice along with the fact she only picked at her food. Severus never saw her fork rise to her mouth.

In the middle of dinner, Hermione stood and excused herself. Severus watched her intently, but gained nothing as to clue him in to why she rushed out. She walked with her normal delicate grace in a quicker stride. And with the click of the door, he couldn't see her any more.

Meanwhile, as soon as she closed the door, Hermione Granger ran for her rooms. She'd been nauseous the entire day and now it was finally coming to a climax. Fleeing to her toilet, she gave back to the porcelain god anything she had consumed that day, which really wasn't much. She'd felt worse this morning, so she had only eaten an egg. Then at lunch she began to think of telling Severus and could only force down the piece of banana bread Mrs. Weasley had _made_ her eat. And at dinner, nothing. She rinsed out her mouth in the sink and chewed some mint gum her mother had given her the last time they'd been together. Exhausted, she knew that if she didn't go back to dinner, she would have to go back to the lab. Sighing, she retreated to the room she'd been confined to since the beginning of summer break. Ron and Harry, they were allowed to be in the main action. But she, she had to stay inside the walls, safe and making potions and tonics for those who were injured in the real fighting. She was bracing herself for when Dumbledore would announce that she was to stay with Poppy during the final battle.

But Hermione knew she couldn't be so selfish now, not with a baby. She would probably be close to due date by then and she would be glad to be shielded from curses and hexes. Sighing, Hermione stirred her potion and then bottled it minutes later. There, she was done for the week. Her quota was fulfilled. She would have the weekend off. Cleaning out her cauldron, Hermione did one quick wave of her hand (she'd been studying wandless magic) and everything was back in order. Her ingredients returned to their place on the shelf on the back wall, in alphabetic order by their Latin name. Then her instruments were placed back in the drawers and hangers that were appropriate. And lastly, her cauldron placed itself in the closet along with the others. It was spotless. Smiling weakly at a job well done, she extinguished the candles and went to bed, having a dead and dreamless sleep.


	2. I Love You

The next morning she awoke as she had planned: nauseous. And not only that, she had a throbbing headache. Stumbling to her bathroom, Hermione noticed flickering lights of candles in her lab. _That can't be_, Hermione thought_, I know I blew them out last night_. She stepped towards the doorway to see who had invited themselves in when another wave of nausea brought her back to her current task. Walking with a purpose to the toilet, she promptly got sick. _This is getting old,_ Hermione thought with a sigh, leaning back against the wall. She would vomit three more times before brushing her teeth and then she would experience this joy again close to seven in the evening. It was a set schedule.

_If only I could take some ingredients,_ Hermione thought wistfully. She was referring to the potion she could brew that would relieve her of morning sickness. But with her luck, someone would notice the shortage and could link together the items missing and what they were used to create. Sighing again, she let the time pass and after she had finished her quota of number of times sick, she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back into a simple yet elegant bun. As of late, Hermione had found the urging desire to look and feel beautiful. She assumed it to be the idea that in eight months she could be equivalent to a whale, but nonetheless, she indulged it with nicer robes, beauty potions and make up. Unfortunately, everyone now had to comment because Ginny had helped and boasted about it to everyone in the house. Preparing herself to look decent for who ever had managed to break into her lab, Hermione finally deemed herself worthy and made her way into the room she'd lovingly named "the cage".

She slid around the bookcase and peered cautiously over at where the cauldrons were. She fought the urge to gasp when she laid eyes on Severus, deeply concentrated on his potion. Hermione sighed inaudibly. It made sense, him being here. He was her coworker when he wasn't in the field, wasn't he? Hermione inwardly groaned. She had the sudden desire to call in sick today. She couldn't face him, not yet, maybe not ever. The thought of seeing him in Potions everyday made her cringe. It would be her own personal torture, her hell and she would have to endure it and face the man she loved and had let go. A lump came into her throat and Hermione was unable to stop the sob that emitted. Severus looked up and she fled, unsure of whether he had seen her or not.

She shut the door and collapsed onto her bed in a fit of tears. She hated this, she hated it! She hated loving this child more than anything in the world and also wishing it didn't exist. She hated having to let a man she loved pass her by. She hated how people would think of her, a young unwed mother and friend to Harry Potter!

But as she sobbed she felt strong arms enfold her in their silent power. She didn't have to look to see who it was; she had known his familiar scent immediately. Her tears suddenly turned to tears of relief and she turned and cried into his chest, thanking God that he was there with her and that she wouldn't be alone.

Severus pulled her into his arms, realizing what frail creature he possessed in his grasp. And as she fell asleep in his arms, he traced small circles on her abdomen, in awe that his child resided there. Kissing Hermione's forhead, he understood just how lucky of a wizard he was. They would find a way to get through this, together. He would never leave his Hermione alone, not in this state. Besides that, she was the light in his like of darkness. He clung to her like air.

"I love you." Severus whispered to her silent figure, finally comprehending that what he said was true. He loved her and he would, until his dying day. . .


End file.
